Gateway
by Remi G. Craeg
Summary: Mulder, the perfect distraction.


**A/N**: This is just a bit of nonsense that doesn't really follow a particular timeline, if it makes a difference to mention it. Mature content to follow, please respect that.

* * *

Gateway  
by Remi Craeg

1545 CST, Monday  
Downtown St. Louis, MO

"Hey, Scully, ever been up in the Arch?"

"Downtown?"

"Do you know of another one?" he wondered, amused.

"No," she scowled as if he'd asked her to sample roasted dog.

"What's the matter? You afraid of heights?"

"No, not necessarily. I'd just rather not."

"Aw, come on, Scully. You can't come to St. Louis and not go see the Arch."

"Mulder, there's a difference between 'seeing' and actually going…up."

He smiled at her; she was scared. He loved how she tried to hide it and how she failed so gracefully.

"I think you're afraid—"

"Mulder, I am not," she paused and studied him carefully. He was still smiling, which irritated her to no end. She dropped her head and sighed.

"Come on, we've got some time to burn. It'll be fun." Mulder figured she would refuse, but hoped that she wouldn't. "You can hold my hand if you get scared," he added.

Scully chuckled. She knew he wouldn't give up, and the truth was she wouldn't mind a break from their crazy lives, and take in the sites. It wasn't often that they had the chance. "Fine, Mulder, but you're buying me dinner."

"Deal," he grinned. "I'll even let you pick where." Scully nodded, and he pulled the car out of the police station parking lot.

* * *

1835 CST, Monday  
Gateway Arch Riverfront

"You know, we could've toured a brewery—that's free beer, Mulder—and you picked this?" Scully tapped a glossy brochure against his thigh as he drove.

Mulder shrugged, "I can get a Bud anytime. How often can you go in a giant arch?"

"Fortunately, not often," she mumbled to herself. To give him credit, he'd made quite an effort to make her feel as normal as things used to be. Though she had a feeling he had put more thought into this spontaneous trip than he let on.

An hour later, they waited for their turn to the top. Mulder passed the time by wandering through the circular exhibit on the nation's western expansion, while Scully found the gift shop. Maybe she could get something for her mother or her nephew.

"What'd you find?" Mulder asked when she appeared from behind a stuffed bovirian creature. Scully followed at his side as she scanned the pictures and various quotes from famous explorers.

"A keychain for my mother. She collects them."

Mulder looked away from a very life-like coin maker to glance at his partner, "She does?"

"Well, she can start," Scully declared. She pushed her hair back and crossed her arms.

"Did you know Sacagawea had a baby on the trail with Lewis and Clark?"

"No, I didn't," she admitted and read the paragraph he just had, where indeed, Sacagawea had a son.

Scully didn't know a lot about the Wild West, as it were. In high school, her US history class served as a convenient study hall before biology, and in college only one or two classes were required to satisfy that particular requirement. She was comfortable with the time around the Founding Fathers and the Revolutionary War, but her knowledge didn't pick back up until the Civil War and beyond. She'd often wondered if those years were covered the forth, fifth, or sixth week of her freshman year that she'd missed because of mononucleosis (courtesy Ben Mendel).

Mulder could always fill in the gaps, she thought. He was handy like that, a historical databank of ancient civilizations, global cultural divides, and the most random of facts—frequently with a paranormal flare. Between the two of them, it seemed there was little not covered.

Once out of the exhibit, Scully pointed to a line that was beginning to form next to a framed entrance. From the middle of the line, over Mulder's head, she could make out a series of steps and short platforms that ascended up to the ride's elevators.

"We'll put you two in car four," a woman with graying hair and wrinkled skin told Mulder. Scully wasn't sure, but she thought a wink followed her directions. Mulder smiled at her, which she happily returned, and led Scully up the stairs.

There weren't a lot of people out this late on a Monday, Scully noticed. A handful, probably a family, huddled on three steps outside of the first car, another family at the second, and an older couple next to them. The woman looked up suddenly, catching Scully, and gave her a small smile. Mulder looked down at Scully at the same time the woman's husband looked to his wife.

"Excited?" he wondered with a whisper. His breath was startling against her ear, stirring the fine hairs along her neck, and gave her goosebumps. Scully could only nod distractedly; her eyes were fixed on the obscenely small door to their car. Was that really the way they were going up, in a shrunken elevating pod that looked more like a prop from Mork and Mindy than something a national monument would utilize for vertical transportation? In her mind, she'd pictured an industrialesque elevator with exposed sides, guarded with medal grates, maybe a naked light bulb to illuminate the curved walls of the well-supported structure. Instead, the door barely cleared her shoulders. She dreaded seeing what was on the other side.

She knew it was ridiculous to get all worked up about a tourist attraction. Perhaps it was her reasoning. A little part of her wondered what status the symbol held as a target, especially in this decade, but security at the front had calmed that concern. No, it was something a little less rational. That panic that haunts a great percentage of humans. The sick, dizzying fear that crippled Jimmy Stewart with vertigo.

Scully never considered herself afraid of heights, nor afraid of much, but there was something about the towering arch and a tiny capsule that would take her more than six hundred off the earth that unsettled her nerves and tickled her stomach. Mulder seemed totally unaffected as he rocked back on his heals to inspect the ceiling. He held a palm against his bicep and the other hand pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and middle finger. Had he no fear?

The painted four disappeared into the wall and a group of young teens jumped out. _Five?_ They'd fit _five_ people in there? She confirmed, three girls, two boys. Two girls giggled with one another, and the other three watched eagerly for their companion's story to continue. Mulder grinned stupidly, apparently anxious to get _inside_ of the elevator.

"Come on, Scully. It's _spacious_," he crooned, patting the swiveling seat next to him. Ducking, she stepped inside apprehensively and immediately thanked her lucky stars for only one other passenger—even if it was Mulder.

Mulder's head touched the top of the gray, rounded ceiling and his knees bumped hers. There were no windows to speak of. The thin vertical slits didn't count because she could only see light and no detail. How long did that lady say the ride would last? She shook her head; this was ridiculous, they hadn't even moved.

"This is fun, huh?" He folded his arms into a comfortable position in his lap and bounced his legs on his toes a few times.

"Barrels."

Mulder eyed her suspiciously. Did he think she was faking her distress? She supposed that thought mirrored on her face when he smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he told her. "I thought you might like it. To get away, I mean" he explained. Her gut twisted. Of course he was only trying to be thoughtful and she had to act like an ungrateful jerk.

Scully loosened her shoulders and let out a breath. "I do, Mulder," she assured him but didn't indicate to which comment she'd referred. He smiled acceptingly and put a hand on her arm.

"I can help distract you from the ride," he offered, wiggling his eyebrows.

She surprised him with a response, "Like how?"

He leaned real close then, lips grazing her jaw, and murmured, "I can think of a few ways."

"Mmul-der," she stuttered against his lips. Heat rushed through her—a mixture of roaring blood, hormones, and anything else that got as caught up as her along the way.

"Yes?" His answer was as smooth as the hand that slid up her thigh. Scully was instantly breathless and flushed—his favorite combination.

"Mulder, not here," she managed. The same mouth that spoke logic and sense just betrayed that very reason by seeking out his uninhibited and reckless one. How long did that damn old woman say the ride was?

Mulder kissed her roughly, pulling her off her seat and closer to him with a hand at the base of her neck, while the other was impatiently tugging at her skirt. Scully was sure she'd fall to the floor without his hands.

"See, Scully. If you were paying attention, you'd know only a minute or so have lapsed. Did you notice?" he tested between kissing her lips and chin and nose and neck and cheeks and chin and lips. Her head shook and her skirt wrinkled mid-thigh. His hand was at the elastic of her underwear now.

"God, Mulder," she moaned when he touched her center over the fabric of her underwear. Her eyes fluttered shut but her lips were parted. Mulder kissed her there again. She met him full force, using both arms to wrap across his shoulders.

"You think you can make it?" he wondered, not really worried about fear. He scraped his middle finger through her folds, stopping at her clit. Rubbing the side of it quickly with two fingers, Mulder caused her hips to rise off the metal seat right into his palm.

Scully was coherent enough to nod. Yes, like this, she could make it. It had been her experience that caused her to doubt anyone but Mulder could make her react in such a manner.

His fingers changed gears, slowing to allow her to catch her breath. Scully was sure she didn't need it and groaned, "Uhh, Mulder."

"What?" he said innocently. Her glare was enough reprimand to spark another start. Scully's hands squeezed his shoulders and he pushed a finger inside of her.

"Unh," was her gasp right into his ear. She rolled her hips on his hand with an urgent energy and his palm scraped her in just the right place. "You think…_you_ can make it?" she forced out with her lips just above his. He nodded, too.

Scully hurriedly groped at his pants, not bothering with the belt or button, but skipped right down to the zipper. There was no time for naked, the ride had to be half over by now…or was it half started? Either way there wasn't enough time.

Her fingers snaked inside his boxers with ease and familiarity. A tight hand greeted a now very hard erection in the shadow of his slacks and stroked. "You're killing me, Scully," he groaned into her mouth.

"That's not the exact outcome I was looking for..."

"Mm, oh yeah?"

She didn't reply, but flipped one leg over his so she straddled his lap. A hand pushed his erection to her folds and he rubbed against her for a few long strokes, bumping her nerves like an electrode on the brain. She rubbed and thrust and ground into his hardness using him like a cat uses a scratching post. It was a mutual use, however, and Mulder squeezed her hips tightly and forced her down on him hard. Her breath was moist on his cheek and he kissed her open mouth roughly before entering her one glorious inch after another.

"God, Scully." She tried to kiss away his distress, and it worked she guessed, because he hugged her to him with circling arms.

Scully freed herself with a push against his chest and she looked at him through hooded eyes. Mulder slipped his arm between them and found where they were joined. Slowly he rubbed three fingers through hot, slick folds and again over her clit. Scully sighed, stiffened, and bucked all at once, which fortunately gave him more room to work.

Mulder lifted off the seat and held her hips still with his one free hand. He repeated the thrusts twice and stilled again. Then he pressed ever so softly against that magic center, urging her on with an array of short kisses.

"Please," she begged breathlessly. Through the double layer of suit, his and her own, Scully felt his heart pounding just as fast. It wouldn't be much longer now. For either ride.

Expert fingers ran laps around her clit before dragging down to their joint where a thrust would meet his gripping fist. Up it was, back to her clit for the final strokes before completion came. They grazed the side of her clit lightly and grew harder as her hips squirmed on top of his erection. She was squeezing him now, in pulses, and her body swiveled faster.

By the time he pushed up into her again, she was gone, throbbing blissfully. A few seconds later, and for the first time, Scully noticed the regular shifting of the capsule as it rotated to match the angle of the arch they were climbing. Mulder was right, he could make her forget.

"Wait a minute, Scully, before you become completely attentive," he spoke about both rides' incompletion. She gave him a lazy smile and lifted her weight from his thighs. "Where you goin'?"

"Mm, nowhere, Mulder," she explained and pecked his mouth twice. "Relax. I'm just trying to help," she finished with a third kiss.

"I ever tell you how helpful you've been over the years?"

She shook her head and rocked up and down, from side to side, and every which way until he moaned for more. "I can imagine how much more help I could've been."

"No," he kissed, "just…right. Ahh, yeah. Just right."

Mulder grabbed her by the hips with both hands, holding her in the same rhythm while the sensation built deep within him. "Uhh, Scu-llyyy…"

"Come on, Mulder, we're stopping—" she whispered and pinched his nipple. As soon as the words hit his ears, and still holding her hips, he was pulling her completely down and pushing up so tight and coming so hard he thought he'd clinch his teeth into dust. He dropped his head against her breasts and desperately attempted to calm his breathing. "Atta boy, Mulder. Perfect timing," she whispered again, patting his back.

Mulder chuckled and helped her back to her seat. She pulled a wad of tissues from her purse and proceeded to wipe them both dry. Her skirt was in place before he'd noticed and his fly was zipped with equal stealth. She cupped him one last time, fondling his semi-erect penis for a few seconds longer than he could stand and smiled.

"You're a good distraction, you know," she murmured with one last kiss as the cart stopped completely. He nodded and kissed her again quickly as the door dragged open.

Outside of the capsule, three or four people loitered by the first few doors waiting for the families to exit before they piled in. Scully pulled Mulder by his hand to the viewing area as if nothing as unprofessional as fucking in a public place had just occurred. He wasn't as successful as his expression revealed a zombie's secrets.

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading. Leave me a message, it really makes my day.


End file.
